


Coda 1x15

by sconesandtextingandmurder



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, M/M, coda fic, spoilers for 1x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconesandtextingandmurder/pseuds/sconesandtextingandmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor massaged the back of Oliver’s neck, fingers digging into the knots of muscle there.  “It will.  It’ll be okay.”</p>
<p>Oliver took in a long, shuddering breath.  “There’s nothing about this that is okay,” he said into the pillow.</p>
<p>Connor swallowed down the bubble of hysterical laughter that was building inside at how fucked his sense of okay had become.  Because this—even though it was yet another thing he couldn’t fix—felt almost hopeful by comparison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coda 1x15

The moment after he heard the news, Connor turned and walked out, pulling Oliver’s bedroom door closed behind him. 

 Oliver watched him go.

He’d harbored no illusions that Connor would stay, so it didn’t even surprise him.  What caught him off guard was the way the pain, which he’d been sure was the worst it could get, sharply intensified, pulling the air from his lungs. What little strength he had left failed him, and he collapsed over onto the bed, still clutching the pillow to his chest.  He curled around it, lost in his own misery, feeling the hot tears slide from his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.  

He didn’t hear the door open.  Or Connor’s footsteps as he crossed the room. It wasn’t until he felt the bed dip that he was even aware of Connor’s presence. Oliver took no solace from it, figuring he’d probably had enough time to gather the few things he had strewn around Oliver’s apartment.  Oliver tried to brace himself before he opened his eyes.  When he finally did, he found Connor sitting on the edge of the bed, a mug in his hand.

“Sorry,” Connor said, ducking his chin, but holding Oliver’s gaze.  “I just needed a minute.”  He held out the mug to Oliver who gave a small shake of his head. Connor took a sip himself and made a face.  “I don’t know how you drink this without sugar.”

Oliver blinked at him as he set the mug on the bedside table.  Then Connor kicked off his shoes and swung his legs onto the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard.  Oliver buried his face in the pillow again, twisting the fabric in his fingers.  

Connor reached down and ran his fingers through Oliver’s hair.  “It’ll be okay,” he said.

Oliver didn’t answer.

Connor massaged the back of Oliver’s neck, fingers digging into the knots of muscle there.  “It will.  It’ll be okay.”

Oliver took in a long, shuddering breath.  “There’s nothing about this that is okay,” he said into the pillow.

Connor swallowed down the bubble of hysterical laughter that was building inside at how fucked his sense of  _okay_  had become.  Because this—even though it was yet another thing he couldn’t fix—felt almost hopeful by comparison.

He tamped down the guilty aspect that said this was probably his fault.  He ignored the selfish part of him, the one that was scared of not having Oliver look at him like he was the answer to everything, and he vowed to take the faith Oliver had in him and use it to make this better.  If he could do nothing else, he could make sure Oliver didn’t go through this alone. He could be by his side for this new, horrible journey.  

Oliver lay there in silence for a long while as Connor continued to gently knead his shoulders.  

“Can I?” Connor asked, tugging on the pillow that was between them.  Oliver didn’t answer, but he released his grip.  With the pillow gone, Connor moved to lie flat, turning towards Oliver and taking him into his arms.  Oliver hid his face against Connor’s chest.

“There’s no reason for you to stay,” Oliver finally said, so softly that Connor almost didn’t hear it.

Connor pressed a kiss to the top of his head.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want to drag you into this.”  Oliver protested.

Connor pushed at Oliver’s shoulder until he lifted his head and met his eye.  “Look.  This isn’t a death sentence.  You know that.  We both do.”

Oliver’s eyes filled with tears again.  

“Tomorrow we go and get you re-tested,” Connor said with more confidence than he felt.  “Then we figure it out from there.”

Oliver nodded and moved to burrow back against Connor, who stopped him.  “But, Oliver,” he said firmly.  Oliver froze, eyes wide. “If you walk around singing songs from Rent, I swear to you I am out of here.”

Oliver managed a laugh, which turned into a sob, and Connor pulled him close again.  


End file.
